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Damon were in the forward observation cabin. The eccentric man suddenly pointed to something visible from the starboard window. "There's a wreck, Tom!" he cried. "Maybe it's the Pandora!" Tom and the others hurried to Mr. Damon's side and peered out into the sea, illuminated by the great searchlight. "That isn't the Pandora!" said the young inventor. "But it's a wreck, isn't it?" asked Ned.
Damon's idea for guarding his prize buff Orpingtons came into play in Tom's scheme of things. "Barbed wire doesn't seem to keep out spies," he added slowly. "But believe me, something else will!" For Tom to think of a thing was to start action without delay. Immediately he called a gang from the shops and set them to work stringing copper wire along the top of the stockade.
"You think so, Tom?" asked Mr. Damon. "I'm sure of it!" "Oh, dear! That's too bad. Bless my overshoes, but I thought I had a new idea. Well, you ought to know. So Damon's Whizzer goes on the scrap heap before ever it's built. Well, we'll say no more about it. You ought to know best, Tom. I wasn't thinking of it so much for myself as for you. I thought you'd like some new idea to work on."
Damon's legs in his excitement, for he had hold of his feet, while Ned was at the head. "Are you all right?" gasped Ned. "Yes I I guess so. I I feel as though I had been put through a clothes wringer though. What happened?" "A big snake dropped down out of a tree and grabbed you," answered Tom. "And then what? Put me down, boys, I guess I can walk." "We shot it," said Ned modestly.
They even looked in at Father Damon's chapel, the dimly lighted fragrant refuge from the world and from sin. Why not? They were interested in the morals of the region. Had not Miss Tavish danced for one of the guilds; and had not Carmen given Father Damon a handsome check in support of his mission?
So he had eight chances in his favor, and as many against him as there were other telephones in use. "It's a mighty small margin in our favor," sighed Tom. "It sure is," agreed Ned. They were at Mrs. Damon's house, waiting for the call to come in. "But we couldn't do anything else," went on Tom. "No," spoke Ned, "and I have a great deal of hope in the proverbial Swift luck, Tom."
Tom circled about for some time, but it was of no use, and then he headed his craft back toward Waterford. "Where are you going?" asked Ned, yelling the words into the ear of his chum. "Back to Mrs. Damon's," answered Tom, in equally loud tones. It was impossible to talk above the roaring and throbbing of the motor, so the two lads kept silent until the airship had landed near Mrs. Damon's home.
The Sheriff On Board The announcement of Mr. Damon came as a great surprise to Tom and Mr. Sharp. They had supposed that the reference to Shagmon was to a person, and never dreamed that it was to a locality. But Mr. Damon's knowledge of geography stood them in good stead. "Well, what's the first thing to do?" asked Tom, after a pause.
There would be a center table, with books of a tranquil sort on it: The Whole Duty of Man, Baxter's Saints' Rest, Fox's Martyrs, Tupper's Proverbial Philosophy, bound copies of The Missionary Herald and of Father Damon's Seaman's Friend.
He meant, however, to redouble precautions at the Swift Construction Company against any stranger getting past the stockade gates. Arrived at Mr. Damon's home in Waterfield, Tom got quickly to work on the little job he had come to do for his old friend. Of course, Tom might have sent two of his mechanics from the works down here to electrify the barbed wire entanglements that Mr.
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